Necessary Changes
by magneticdice
Summary: After he moved in, Ian started making subtle changes around the Milkovich house. A month passed before Mickey noticed anything. There was only SO much Ian could do without making a big impact, afterall, even for someone as oblivious as Mickey. This is the third part of my "A Future, Together" series (aka Dimitri Milkovich series), written as a birthday gift for jinkohamilton!


**Necessary Changes**

Ian had been back from the army for two weeks, and he'd been spending every night at Mickey's. It was like every time he tried to go back home, Mickey had some kind of excuse to keep him there. Ian thought he might have even had his son in on it. After they ate dinner each night (together, at the table), Dimitri would beg Ian to read him his bedtime stories. Once the boy was asleep, Mickey would be prepared with beer and weed and they'd both get so fucked up that Ian would have no choice but to stay over, _again_.

It only took a couple of days for Dimitri to beg Mickey to let Ian be the one to pick him up from daycare instead of Grace. Mickey had been hesitant, not really wanting to put that kind of pressure on Ian, but after all the years helping to raise his little siblings, Ian was a pro when it came to looking after kids. He'd agreed to not only pick Dimitri up, but also make him lunch and keep him busy until Mickey got back home from work at. Later that night, Mickey actually thanked Ian, much to the redhead's surprise. He admitted how hard it was to pay Grace to watch Dimitri every day, especially now that the kid was growing so fast and needed so much more food and new clothes all the time. Mickey showed his gratitude by giving him one of the best blowjobs Ian had ever gotten.

In those two weeks, Ian still couldn't seem to get comfortable at the Milkovich house. The place just held too many bad memories...

He would look at Mandy's room and remember the times he'd hung out with her, but she wasn't there anymore. It was Dimitri's room now, but the kid was sleeping in a shitty second-hand crib Mickey had probably stolen three and a half years ago. One of the four sides had been broken off so that the boy could climb in and out on his own. That didn't change the fact that he was a grown child still sleeping in a crib. None of the walls were decorated either. There were shadows on the walls from where Mandy's posters had been taken down, tape still sticking onto some of the corners.

Even Mickey's bedroom was difficult for Ian to be in... Yeah, they'd had a few good moments in it (and definitely the last 14 or so nights)... but it was the same room Mickey had shared with Svetlana for the better part of a year, at least until Dimitri had been born... Mickey had kept the bigger bed and the stupid pink comforter, probably not wanting to spend the extra money on a new bed set, or not having the drive to steal it.

Ian never went upstairs. The other Milkovich siblings had their rooms up there, and Ian preferred to stay out of their way, even if they were rarely at the house. It was just... sometimes he felt a little trapped. Kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom. That's it. None of the decor had changed. None of the furniture had changed. The house was eerily the same, and it creeped Ian out.

He had a lot of money saved up—close to $80k. He'd been in the army for four years, afterall. He hadn't been able to back up his ROTC experience in high school because the records had been in Ian Gallagher's name, not Lip Gallagher's, so he had started at the bottom-most rank. Despite the low initial rank, Ian had saved almost everything. He had barely spent any of his salary, and, upon returning to Chicago, had decided to take a little break. He could afford to not find a job right away, which was great considering the fact that he had no idea what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Plus, it was easier now that he was spending his afternoons with Dimitri and his nights with Mickey.

So, without talking to Mickey, he started making little changes around the Milkovich place to make himself feel more comfortable. They were subtle changes at first, and neither Mickey nor Dimitri noticed. The fridge was always stocked with [fresh] groceries. Ian enjoyed cooking dinner for the boys. He wasn't a great chef or anything, but he could follow directions and had learned a few tricks over the years from watching Fiona cook.

The mismatched cups and plates really got under his skin. That, and the fact that there was not enough silverware in the house. Ian could never find a fucking spoon when he needed one. He went to Bed Bath & Beyond and bought a new set of plates, cups and cutlery. It wasn't anything fancy, but it made him feel a lot better. He put the old ones in a box that he tucked into the back of one of the cabinets.

He worked on the bathroom next, slowly switching out little elements like the shower curtain and the bathmat, then getting new towels that _weren't_ dirty (no matter how many times Ian washed them) and threadbare. He bought new detergent and fabric softener for the washer and dryer, including plastic hampers that he strategically placed in the bedroom closets.

He'd gotten new bed sheets and pillowcases, but forgone changing the comforters. He'd even bought a few throw pillows and new curtains for the living room.

It was a month later before Mickey noticed anything. There was only SO much Ian could do without making a big impact, afterall, even for someone as oblivious as Mickey. He'd decided to take the chance and paint Dimitri's room. He'd picked the boy up from daycare early and had taken him to the Home Depot.

They'd talked to one of those paint specialists and decided on a theme together: the jungle. Ian had bought all the necessary paint and supplies, had taken all the furniture out of Dimitri's room, and then they had painted all the walls a bright shade of green, making sure to leave the windows open to help air the smell out faster. It was actually pretty cute: Ian had bought a little paint brush for Dimitri to "help" him, but more paint had ended up on their clothes than the wall thanks to that little brush!

They'd showered to get all the green off of their bodies and out of their hair, and had eaten hot dogs for lunch. Before the paint had had a chance to fully dry, Ian had stuck on the 12-inch animal-print wallpaper border around the room. The added trim at the top of the walls really made an impact by breaking up the monotonous green color.

About an hour before Mickey got home, they carefully put the animal decals onto the walls. Dimitri was so thrilled. He roared like a lion and hissed like a snake as Ian put up the matching stickers. He meowed at the panther and Ian couldn't help but laugh at him, but felt bad right away. Dimitri looked at him with a confused expression on his face. "What's so funny?" he demanded. Oh, he was _just_ like his father.

"Sorry, D. That's not a regular cat, so it doesn't meow."

"It's not?" the boy asked amazed. Ian shook his head. "Then what is it?"

"It's a black panther. It makes a sound like a roar, just like a lion. It hisses a lot too."

Dimitri thought about that for a minute before he ran to his bookshelf and grabbed something, bringing it over to Ian. "So it's like this?" he asked, pointing to a page in a book.

It was a tattered copy of The Jungle Book, and must have been one of the books Mandy had left for him, but Mickey hadn't read it to Dimitri yet because he wasn't old enough. He was pointing to a picture of Bagheera.

"Yeah, kid. Exactly like that," Ian said, patting him on his shoulder.

"Can you read it to me?" he asked eagerly.

Ian nodded. "We can read it before you go to sleep tonight. First, I need your help getting all these toys back into your room. Just be careful you don't put anything too close to the wall, because the paint is still wet. Deal?"

"_Deal!"_ Dimitri screamed happily.

They were sitting in the living room and watching Nickelodeon when Mickey got home. Dimitri jumped up and ran to his father, hugging him tightly and demanding to be picked up.

"How was your day, punk?"

"It was awesome! Daddy, do you know that panthers don't meow? They roar like lions!"

Mickey laughed and eventually put his son down so he could go shower. Once he was done, he joined them in the living room.

"I think we should order some dinner tonight. I'm too tired to cook."

"Sure," Mickey said, not asking Ian what could possibly make him tired. He hadn't seen the bedroom yet. They ordered Chinese and Dimitri ended up eating all three fortune cookies. Mickey read him the fortunes even though the kid didn't really understand them, but Dimitri looked content to just eat the cookies.

Ian cleaned up the table but when Mickey told Dimitri to get ready for his bath, the boy shook his head adamantly. "Nah-uh Daddy. I already took a bath today."

"You did?" Mickey asked, looking at Ian with a raised eyebrow.

"Yup! After we made the jungle."

"What jungle?"

Ian stopped and watched as the little boy led his dad to his bedroom and turned on the light. "I did it! Well, Ian helped... We made my room a jungle! Look, there's a snake and a monkey and..." Dimitri went on and on. Mickey walked out five minutes later.

"Gallagher, what the fuck?"

Ian tried not to look guilty. "We painted his room, Mick."

"I can see that..." Mickey growled.

"I don't see why you're upset about it..."

"You don't see why? You don't fucking see why? You can't just do this shit without talking to me! How much did it even cost?"

"It's not about the money... Mickey, you have a _son. _A three and a half year-old _son_, who's been sleeping in a bare, pink bedroom. Not to mention, in a _crib. _I just wanted to make it feel more like a kid's room. It was a necessary change."

"_Necessary change? _Who the fuck are you to decide what's necessary for my kid?_"_

Ian froze. He had expected Mickey to be a little upset, but hadn't expected that kind of a harsh reaction. Even though they hadn't explicitly had a conversation about Ian living there, he'd assumed, after a month, that it was official, and that he would have some sort of say in what happened. He felt his throat tighten, and what he wanted to say just wouldn't come out. Instead, what he managed to mutter was: "Maybe I should just go home..."

Mickey's face fell. He went from angry to scared in the span of a heartbeat. "Yeah, maybe you should."

"No! No, daddy! Don't let Ian go!" Dimitri had run out of his room and was hanging on Ian's leg, holding him in place.

Mickey looked down at his son.

"I love my room! I like the new towels—they're so soft! And the plates and cups that all look the same..." Ian realized with surprise that Dimitri had noticed all the small things he'd changed in the house. "We have fun together! Don't go, Ian!"

Ian looked at Mickey who was frowning and looking at the kitchen, deep in thought. Clearly, he hadn't noticed anything before, but was making the connections now. "What else have you changed?"

Ian stared Mickey in the eye as he answered. "I got matching sets of plates, bowls, cups and the like. New knives, forks and spoons. A few good pots and pans... Sheets, pillows... Things for the bathroom... hampers and towels," he said looking down and winking at Dimitri as he said the last one.

"Dimitri, go back to your room."

"But Daddy...I—"

"Go."

Dimitri scowled in true Milkovich fashion and stomped off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Gallagher, what are you doing?"

Ian wasn't sure where to start so he just decided to jump in, head first. "I was under the impression that I was living here now. I mean, I know we didn't talk about it, but every time I tried to go home, you had another reason for me to stay... and I am happy to stay..." Ian stepped forward and put a hand on Mickey's face, forcing the older boy to look up and meet his gaze. "The thing is, this house doesn't make me feel comfortable. I mean, besides the obvious work it needs, everything in it..." He took a breath, then continued, "everything in it reminds me of terrible things. Your bed, the furniture... Everything."

Ian's eyes had begun to fill with tears, but he wasn't going to chicken out now that they were finally talking about it. "If I'm gonna live here, I don't want to be reminded of your dad all the time. I don't want to live like I can't afford to buy nice things anymore, because _I can_."

"Just because you can doesn't mean I can," Mickey shot back.

"Well, there shouldn't be an 'I' or 'you' anymore. I can, so that means we can."

"I'm not gonna just let you spend all of your money on junk we don't need!"

Ian laughed. "It's not junk, and it's not that expensive. I didn't make any big purchases anyway. I wouldn't do that without talking to you, and I'd want you to help me pick stuff out!"

"Like what?"

Ian was still laughing. "Well, for starters, Dimitri needs a bed! Maybe a good toy chest and a dresser, too."

Mickey bit his bottom lip and looked in the direction of his son's room. He let his lip fall and took a deep breath. "What else?" he asked, tentatively.

Ian was a little thrown by Mickey's question. He'd been expecting to have to defend his argument about what Dimitri needed in his room. "Um..." he took a second to go through the mental list he'd made since coming back to Chicago. "We should paint all the rooms. The walls are disgusting. Maybe we can make them a happier color... something more welcoming."

He looked at Mickey, who nodded, urging Ian to continue. "New couches that don't spread a cloud of dust when you sit on them... preferably something without blood stains." He laughed nervously but Mickey frowned. They both knew how the blood had gotten there...

"Right... so," Ian continued, "I don't care if you keep your wife's bed and mattress, but we need a new comforter. The pink ruffles are even too gay for me."

Mickey laughed at that.

"Some new end tables, a coffee table for the living room that doesn't have coke in the edges and scorch marks from crack pipes being left on it... and a new dining room table, which chairs that don't wobble. I swear, every time Dimitri tries to climb up into his seat, I worry that the chair's going to break and he's going to topple over..."

He was done, and he felt like a load had been lifted off his shoulders. He stood in front of Mickey, waiting for the man to explode.

"Fine."

Ian blinked at Mickey, not really trusting what he'd heard. "Fine?"

"Yeah. This place is a shit-hole."

Ian still didn't want to get too excited. "Are you sure?" he asked, uncertain.

"Yeah... but I'm not letting you pay for it all. I'm gonna pay you back eventually, and you'd better fucking accept it when I do."

Ian finally allowed himself to smile. So, Mickey was serious about them living together. If they were going to be buying new furniture together, that _meant_ something.

"Maybe we can also get a new bookshelf for Dimitri. I think Ikea has nice ones..." Mickey added.

Ian's smile spread from ear to ear. Oh yes, this definitely meant something.


End file.
